Rudolf Steiner : occult crank or architectural mastermind?

Rudolf Steiner (1861-1925) saw architectural creation as a means of apprehending our place in the cosmos and his esoteric system of Anthroposophy aimed to demonstrate the correspondence between the spiritual and material worlds. Much of the literature available on Steiner tends to polarize him as either a creative genius or eccentric oddity, with architectural historians generally tending to adopt the latter view. Despite the fact that Steiner's architectural conceptions have remained marginal, the highly acclaimed works of many Anthroposophically inspired architects suggest that his gnostic perceptions may have something worthwhile to offer contemporary architecture.

Between theory and practice : Rudolf Steiner as philosopher and architect

The philosophy and architecture of Rudolf Steiner both aim to give formal expression to his esoteric worldview, however, the means of articulating this worldview fundamentally differ within each discipline. Philosophy and architecture are separated by both process and product, and while an interdisciplinary reading of Steiner’s work does make certain connections between them evident, the incorporeal nature of thinking and the physical reality of building inevitably require different skills of their author, as well as different standards by which to assess them. Although he had no formal training as an architect, Steiner believed that his system of Anthroposophy provided a conceptual framework that would inspire a new style of modern architecture imbued with a spiritual dimension. As such, architecture provided Steiner with a means of visually expressing what words could not, and was therefore a necessary and important part of his philosophical pursuit. This paper explores the tension that exists between Steiner’s philosophy and architecture in its translation from theoretical ideas into built form. Steiner’s approach to architectural design was less concerned with the methods and techniques of the craft than with achieving what he saw as architecture’s true purpose - namely to give voice to the inner spiritual content of the work. However, in order to achieve this ultimate goal, a certain level of architectural competence is required. Therefore, Steiner’s ability as an architect to articulate such lofty ideals will also be assessed. Conceived on the edge of theory and practice, Steiner’s work serves to demonstrate the richness and depth that such an approach has to offer the field of architecture.

A modern audience for the ancient mysteries of the occult : the evolution of Rudolf Steiner's esoteric architecture

In today’s secular society, occult conceptions of architecture may seem somewhat anachronistic, but at the turn of the twentieth century the bourgeoisie, alongside society’s artistic and intellectual elite, were enthusiastically embracing a myriad of esoteric doctrines and mystical impulses. One of the most prominent and enduring examples of this cultural phenomenon is to be found in Rudolf Steiner’s quasi-philosophical system of Anthroposophy. As a path of spiritual development based on ancient mysteries of the occult, Anthroposophy offered people the belief that there existed a way out of the chaos and meaninglessness of modern industrialised society. Steiner used the medium of architecture as a way of repackaging the occult’s venerable secrets into a tangible, material form that made their hidden message more readily accessible to his contemporary audience. While he was striving towards creating a totally new architectural language appropriate to the modern age, he perceived architectural style as an evolutionary process that revealed its spiritual content in a particular way in every epoch. As such, Steiner made free use of historical and mythological precedents as archetypal references in his work, thus giving his architecture a genealogy that has, until now, remained largely undefined. By investigating Steiner’s indebtedness to ancient temples and the architecture of the baroque, a greater understanding of his architectural heritage is made possible, which not only helps to locate him within the cultural milieu of his day, but also within the broader context of architectural history. A spiritual thread runs through this history that demonstrates that Steiner’s architecture is not as idiosyncratic as it may initially seem, though whether his work represents an original step forward in the development of modern architecture, or is merely a hangover of nineteenth century eclecticism, must also be considered in order to determine the architectural value of Steiner’s esoteric ideas.

Paper and fire : the images and ashes of Rudolf Steiner's architecture

On New Years Eve, 1922, the massive double-domed timber structure of Rudolf Steiner’s First Goetheanum was engulfed in flames and reduced to ashes. In an effort to make his spiritual teachings accessible to all people through the medium of architecture, Steiner had dedicated ten years to the project. Growing hostility towards his occult philosophy however, pointed to arson as the probable cause of the blaze. Not to be defeated, Steiner embarked upon a new design for a second Goetheanum that endeavoured to fulfil the same aim as its predecessor but on an even grander scale. Yet despite being borne out of the same ideational basis, the architectural expression of the second building was vastly different from the first. This paper examines these differences and investigates how the methods Steiner used to create his architecture influenced the final architectural products. Steiner recognised drawing as a creative instrument that could enrich the conceptual potential of his theoretical work, however, with no formal training as an architect and limited drawing ability, this exchange was somewhat limited. The ambiguity of Steiner’s drawings is countered to some extent though by the maquettes and models he produced, which help negotiate the gap between the immaterial idea and the material object. The shared three-dimensional nature of model making and architecture allowed Steiner a more direct means of articulating and mediating his esoteric ideas in built form than the two-dimensional nature of drawing, particularly given the undulating organic forms he enthusiastically employed. Nevertheless, models are still a form of architectural abstraction capable of leaving their own trace on the built work and the distinctive character of Steiner’s non-conventional models serve to illustrate this point. A comparison between Steiner’s models and the buildings themselves reveal the intimate relationship between process and product that exists in his work. While the loss of the first Goetheanum came as a crushing blow to Steiner, its destruction and reconstruction offered him a unique opportunity to reconsider aspects of the design that may have been flawed in the first instance – a situation he embraced unequivocally. What images recurred in his work and why? How did his architecture evolve? This essay will demonstrate how paper and plasticine were utilised in a highly individualised manner by Steiner as a bridge between idea and artefact, to allow new architectural forms to rise from the ashes and produce one of the twentieth century’s most extraordinary buildings.

The sense and non-sense of Rudolf Steiner's architecture

According to Rudolf Steiner, within the sensory world there exists a spiritual world that remains concealed from our consciousness to the extent that our perception is limited to our senses and sense bound thinking. He argued that ignorance of this supersensible realm was the result of a limited understanding of the senses. Rather than the usual five senses, Steiner differentiated twelve sense functions through which, he believed, human beings were capable of perceiving subtle dimensions of life beyond the immediately apparent physical realm of being. His theory of the senses elucidated the potentiality for an understanding of the way the spiritual world creates its image in the physical world and he saw artistic activity as a means of making this hidden union manifest. As such, Steiner advocated a multi-sensory architecture that articulated its spiritual presence experientially through an active engagement with its forms, colours, textures, light and sound. However, due to the esoteric overtones of Steiner's writing, his theory of the senses has received very little scholarly attention, particularly in relation to its relevance to architectural creation. This paper aims to peel back the layers of jargon and mysticism that Steiner employed in order to reveal how his unique insights into the nature of the senses informed his architectural products. Such an approach will provide a more comprehensive understanding of Steiner's distinctive architectural forms as well as the significant philosophical ideas that inform them.

Woolgrowers, brokers and the debate over the sale of the Australian wool clip, 1920-1925

Prior to the First World War, the selling of the Australian wool clip rested firmly in the hands of the large woolbroking firms. An agreement between the British and Australian governments during the war saw many of the wool-selling functions of broking firms taken over by the Central Wool Committee. At the conclusion of hostilities, brokers moved to regain their role in the market. However, market conditions had changed. On an international level, traditional trading relationships had broken down, leaving commodity markets unstable and prices unpredictable. On a local level, woolgrowers had benefited from the wartime orderly marketing scheme and the high price guaranteed by the British government for their wool clip. As a result, they had begun to demand a greater role in the selling arrangements of their clip. This paper investigates the debates over the sale of the wool clip in the 1920s and how woolbrokers and growers eventually arrived at an understanding as to the manner in which the market should operate.

Where memory failed, journalism prevailed: Anzac Day in three Victorian country newspapers 1916-1925

This article explores how three Victorian country newspapers shaped and reinforced the collective memory of Anzac Day in its first decade, from 1916 to 1925. It draws on a sample of 300 articles, and looks to scholarship on journalism and memory to generate understandings of these newspapers' important role as co-creators and protectors of Anzac Day commemoration. The sample provides evidence that Anzac Day coverage was thematically consistent from the start. The analysis highlights journalists' roles as patriotic cheerleaders for a new, national identity; as collaborators with other social institutions in establishing the commemoration tradition; and as boundary riders, who patrolled less than acceptable Anzac Day behaviour. This role is most striking when communities failed to mark Anzac Day in the early days, as this article reveals.

I had gone to teach but stayed to learn: Geraldine MacKenzie at Aurukun Mission, 1925-1965

This article examines the missionary career of Geraldine MacKenzie who, with her husband Bill MacKenzie, served on the Presbyterian mission at Aurukun on the Cape York Peninsula between 1925 and 1965. It focuses primarily on MacKenzie’s own interpretation of and reflection on her experiences, as described in her memoir, Aurukun Diary. While the memoir elides some of the more controversial features of the MacKenzies’ tenure at Aurukun, it provides insights into the changing nature of missionary theology and practice on Aboriginal missions in the early twentieth century, particularly as they relate to the role of women—both missionaries and mission residents.